How to snag a secret boyfriend
by f.f. lindy
Summary: Now with chapters! The companion pieces to my first date fic. The morning after and then some
1. How to snag a secret boyfriend

Although it goes against my better judgment, and I'm usually adamantly apposed to sequels, I couldn't resist. Thanks to all who reviewed "How to end a first date" (feedback is better than beer). This works as a standalone, but its probably more fun if you read the first one, and I had so much fun with it, keep your eyes pealed for a third

* * *

How to Snag a Secret Boyfriend

f.f. lindy

* * *

Jim showed up back at her door less than ten hours after their first date had come to a close. He realized that he looked like he was trying to hard. With the new haircut Karen had talked him into getting it was hard not to, but the polo shirt probably didn't help a lot either. He tried his best to tool his hair to make it look more normal before he knocked.

The door flung open the moment his knuckles left it. He grinned when he saw her. In her little white cotton skirt and strappy sandals, she looked like she was trying to hard. "Hey," he said.

"What happened to your hair?" she looked a little shocked.

He felt a blush creep across his face and he walked inside, catching his reflection in the mirror in her entryway. Rather than casually disheveled like he typically kept it, it looked like he had been attacked by something. He quickly used his hands to try to get it back to some semblance of normal.

"That's a little better," she said.

"Should we get going?" he asked, trying to save face as best he could.

"Yeah," she smiled, and followed him towards the door. Her keys were poised in her hands to avoid a repeat of the previous evenings ten minute long scour for them. She locked the door swiftly behind them.

"So," he began as they made their way out into the crisp morning air, "we have about 47 hours before we go back to the office and the hyenas we work with spoil this simple, blissful thing we have going. What do you want to do with them?"

"Well, we could start by walking to the bagel place down the street," she pointed in the direction for him to follow, "but I was actually thinking that maybe we shouldn't tell everyone at the office. We could just keep this blissful, simple thing we have going to ourselves."

"Why Ms. Beesly, are you asking me to be your secret boyfriend?" he asked wiggling his eyebrows.

She giggled. "Maybe."

"I hope you know that there are stipulations that come with a secret boyfriend. And certain privileges I'd require."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Well it would mean clandestine meetings, and we would probably need a secret code of some sort to speak in around everyone else."

"I think I could handle that."

"Oh no, I'm just getting started," he explained playfully. "We're talking full boyfriend privileges on the weekends, so dates, and movies- the whole works, _and_ secret boyfriend stuff during the week. You'll have to sit with me at the table in the lunch room and pretend we're not playing footsie under the table. Oh, and hand-holding, there will have to be a lot of non-work function hand-holding. It's not something to take lightly."

She smiled up at him. "Well, it does sounds pretty rough, but I _really _want a secret boyfriend."

"Okay then," he said cautiously, "but you asked for it." He immediately took her hand in his own and held it protectively as they made their way up the street.

"I have to ask you a very important secret girlfriend question," she whispered, as they neared her favorite bagel shop. "Do we get to hold hands in restaurants, even though we might know someone?"

"It's a chance we'll have to take," he said soberly, eliciting a tiny laugh from Pam.

* * *

"Well," he said, as they finished up their breakfast, "I had planned to just walk you home after breakfast. But now that I'm your secret boyfriend—"

"You're really going to milk this for all it's worth aren't you?"

"Hey, I told you it wasn't something to take lightly. As my secret girlfriend you are going to have to help me pick out a christening gift for my niece."

"Oh am I?"

"Hey I don't make up the rules," he teased.

"Why do I get the feeling you're using this to your advantage?"

"Because I couldn't pick out a christening gift without help, and you know that." He cleared the dishes off their little table then held out a hand for her to take.

"There's a little store a few blocks up that might have something," she said, happily linking her hand with his.

"Perfect."

"This secret boyfriend stuff is kind of fun," she observed.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it." They walked along hand in hand, enjoying one of the first sunny Saturday mornings of the season.

"Is this it?" he asked, looking up at a sign and curling his nose. "How did you even know we had a Christian store?"

"Well I've been living in that tiny apartment all alone for eight months and my best friend moved to Stamford. I know every store within a mile of home."

"And you think we'll find something here?" He looked hesitant to enter the store.

"I've never been inside. I thought it was weird."

He chuckled and walked closer to the store, swinging her hand in his. A man on a bench just in front of the store caught his eye and he quickly threw her hand back at her and jumped to put an extra foot of space between them. She looked up at him in confusion then followed his eyes as he shifted his gaze to a very uncomfortable Dwight sitting on a worn wooden bench in front of the store. "Dwight!" Pam said loudly, failing all attempts at seeming inconspicuous.

"I was just sitting here," he said. "There is no particular reason."

"Oh," Pam said just as uncomfortably.

"Pam was just helping me pick out a gift for my niece. I needed a girl's opinion."

He tried to keep Pam walking without touching her so they could get past Dwight and into the store. As soon as the door swung closed behind them Jim pinched her playfully. "You suck at secret boyfriends."

She brought a finger to her lips and shushed him then pointed silently to a rack of figurines. A thin blond woman lifted one carefully and looked at the price on the bottom.

"Angela?" Jim mouthed, his eyes widening.

Pam snapped her finger back up to her mouth. They exchanged grins and tried not to make the other laugh.

"Okay," Pam said, getting herself back under control, "focus. We need a gift for your niece. What does she like?"

"She's three months old," he said, "she likes sleep and her fist."

Pam snickered. "Then what does her mom like?"

"Cookware, broadway musicals…"

"Jim," she cut him off.

"I don't know! All I know is that when they baptized Dylan I brought a little Yankees jersey and that, according to my mom, was an 'insensitive gift.'"

Pam laughed again. "What about something like this?" Pam pointed at a small wall mirror surrounded by angels and cherubs.

"It's kind of—"

"Gaudy?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe Angela would help," Pam said tersely.

"No, this is good, there must be something in here."

"Can I help you?" The older woman behind the counter offered when she noticed their confusion.

"We're trying to pick out a christening gift," Jim offered.

Before the saleswoman could even respond Angela butted in. "I like to give a holy card and," she spun around and saw Jim and Pam, then stopped shortly. "Oh." She went back to her browsing without another word, leaving the shop uncomfortably quiet.

"How about this?" Pam picked up a fuzzy toy sheep holding a sign that said, "I am the lamb and You are my shepherd."

"Perfect," Jim said, handing the animal to the sales clerk.

"So this is it?" she asked awkwardly.

"That's all." Jim paid for the toy and carried the bag outside, walking past Dwight without saying a word. As soon as they were out of earshot Pam all but pounced him.

"Oh my God. Can you believe that?"

"I cannot," Jim said letting out a chuckle. "I wish that I could tell everyone, but I think I will have a lot more fun just reminding Dwight from time to time that we know."

"Oh it's going to be amazing! And I was totally right all along."

"I thought you gave up on that theory."

"I just stopped talking about it. Sometimes it's better to respect the fact that people want to have a secret boyfriend instead of a real one."

"A real one?" Jim balked. "Are you calling your secret boyfriend a fake boyfriend?"

"You know what I mean," she gave his hand a tug.

"Nope," he said obstinately, "you're going to have to do something to prove to me that you know I'm your real, albeit secret, boyfriend."

"Like what?" she said smugly.

"Hmm," he made a pensive face. "We could share an ice cream cone, or go roller skating, or we could take kissy pictures in one of those photo booths at the mall."

She shook her head with a chuckle.

"Oh, I've got it!" he said stopping her in her tracks. "You could come with me to Amy's christening and meet the family."

She bobbed her head, but didn't look at him as she started walking again. "Well that certainly is a very girlfriend-like thing to do."

"Yep, but you owe me one," he teased, trying to ease the awkwardness out of the conversation.

"Okay," she nodded again, clearly still slightly uncertain. "I'll go."

"Cool. It'll be fun, I promise."

"Can we share and ice cream cone anyway."

Jim smiled and looked over at her. "It's not even noon, you really want ice cream?"

"Yep," she said, "I really want ice cream. And I think as my real, albeit secret, boyfriend, you have to buy it." She smiled mischievously at him.

He sighed and swung their clasped hands between them. "You lead the way, Beesly."


	2. How to tell if he's obsessed

Okay, hope this doesn't make it worse rather than better, but from here on out I'll do the story as chapters rather than oneshots.

Please let me know what you think, because I had big plans to continue but am starting to feel like I'm trying to catch a falling knife :(

* * *

How to tell if he's obsessed

ff lindy

* * *

"So, what time am I supposed to be there on Saturday?" Jim asked his brother over the phone on Wednesday night.

"The baptism is at ten, but I doubt we'll be back here until noon or so. You don't need to come to the whole church part. I know it's not your thing."

"I want to be there. I came for Dylan's. Allie is coming up for it isn't she?"

"Yeah, she and Paul are going to meet us at the house for the party. Really, Molly doesn't expect you to come. She understands that our family isn't religious."

"Allie would be coming if it weren't for Paul. You know that, Tom. Paul is just so anti-church he rubs off on her. This is your daughter's baptism, and I want to be there. "

"Okay," Tom resigned, "until you marry a cultist and can't even speak to Molly anymore."

Jim chuckled nervously. "Actually, I was kind of calling to see if it would be alright if I brought someone."

"Jim is bringing a girl to meet the family?" Tom asked, exaggerating his surprise. "Do we finally get to meet Karen?"

Jim paused. "Remember I told you Karen and I were both interviewing for that same job in New York?"

"Yeah."

"Well neither of us got it, and Karen ended up transferring out of Scranton."

"Oh, I'm sorry, man."

"No, it was sort of a mutual decision. I knew she wasn't the one, you know?"

"Is this still about that receptionist? Man, you have to get over her. It's not going to happen."

"Uh," Jim began nervously, "I'm bringing her on Saturday."

"What? No way. I thought she was getting married."

"She called it off. I guess she decided she'd never be happy with him. We've been dating since I ended things with Karen."

"That's been like a week. You're bringing her to meet the family after a week?"

"This is it, Tom. I know it. I'm buying a ring, man."

"I know you've had a crush on her for years, but you can't base a decision like that on a crush."

"It's not just a crush," Jim defended. "I love her."

"Jim it's been a week."

"She's the only reason I even go to work in the morning. I love her."

"If you're sure, then congrats, man. I'll tell Molly to plan on one more."

"Could you not make a big deal out of the fact that I've been obsessing about her for years?" Jim asked discreetly. "Could you just tell people I'm bringing my girlfriend, Pam."

"Anything to make it easier on the poor girl. All the family after one week: you must be crazy."

* * *

By one o'clock the men had all congregated in the family room around the Wii and Jim was the last to join them. He gave Pam's hand a reassuring squeeze before he left her in the kitchen with his sister-in-law. "Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked, hoping to find an excuse not to face the gaggle of women she didn't know out on the back patio.

"I think I have it under control," Molly said, grilling onions in a skillet while watching her toddler play in the middle of the kitchen on a blanket. "But you can keep me company. How did you meet Jim?"

Pam smiled and poised herself to tell the story. A crash and the sudden scuttle of dry pasta across the faux-hardwood floor made Pam jump. Molly sprang from the stove and scooped the little boy out of the pile of salad macaroni noodles he had pulled from the cupboard. "Hold that thought," Molly said. "Do you think you could take him?" She held the baby out and Pam quickly put him on her hip.

Molly had the broom out and was making short work of the mess by the time a voice from the deck called in, "Do you need a hand in there?"

"Thanks, Larissa_,_ but I have it under control," Molly called back sweetly. She turned back to Pam. "Everyone wants to hold the new baby, but I swear having a second seems to automatically make the first into old news. If I had it to do over I wouldn't have let Tom touch me a again until this one was potty trained."

Pam smiled and took the initiative to stir the abandoned onions. "They are really close. Dylan is only a year older?"

"Barely eleven months," she sighed, dumping the last of the macaroni into the trash. "Thanks." She approached Pam who offered Dylan, only to have Molly reach for the spatula instead. "You're okay holding him for a minute?"

"Of course," Pam readjusted the baby on hip.

"So, where were we? Oh yeah, what did you have to do to get Jim to bring you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did you beg him to bring you, or was it like he met your parents so you wanted to meet his."

"Oh, no, I just helped him shop for the gift and he asked me along."

Molly's mouth dropped dramatically. "You know this is a big deal don't you? Jim hasn't brought a girl to any family things since I've been around, probably before that."

"You never met Karen? Or Katy?"

"Karen was real?" Molly sounded shocked. "We all thought he just made up Karen so we'd stop teasing him about being in love with a girl he worked with. He's been so hung up on this girl from his office that I didn't think he'd even had a girlfriend in the last five years."

Pam blushed tried to hide how uncomfortable she was.

"Oh, don't worry. He hasn't even mentioned her since he moved to Stamford. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."

"Whew," Pam wiped her forehead for effect.

"So how did you meet Jim?"

Her eyes got wide and she knew she probably looked just as terrified as she was. "Uh, from work," she said softly.

"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry. I didn't know or I wouldn't have brought up— Well I don't remember her name, but I'm sure you know who I'm talking about."

"Yeah," Pam tried to act naturally.

"Look at you, holding a baby and making nice with the in-laws," Jim said walking into the kitchen. "You look like you belong here."

Pam smiled. "Molly was just telling me about—"

"How hard it is to try to balance Dylan and Amy while they're both so young," Molly cut Pam off before she could finish.

"Oh," Jim looked suspicious. "Well the guys are going outside to play basketball, and I thought you might like to come watch. I know how you love to watch basketball," he teased.

"Not to spoil the fun," Molly interjected, "but you can go tell your brother that no one is playing basketball until the hamburgers have been barbequed and lunch is over."

Jim raised his eyebrows. "Okay," he nodded. "I will pass that along."

"Pam, would you go with him," she gave a phony smile, "and make sure he does."

Pam smiled back. "Of course."

"And you can pass Dylan off to him too. It's his turn."

Jim gave Pam a look that was usually reserved only to mock Dwight. She had to turn away from Molly so that she wouldn't see the laugh erupting from her.

Pam followed Jim back to the family room and offered Dylan to Tom. "Special delivery from Molly."

"Thanks," Tom said, smirking.

"Oh, and she says that 'no one is playing basketball until the hamburgers are cooked,'" Jim quoted.

Tom sighed. "Alright guys, I guess duty calls."

The men began to disperse from the family room and Jim pulled Pam a little closer to whisper in her ear. "I want to show you something, follow me." He walked casually out the front door and down the driveway, then looked around to be sure no one was watching as he approached a white pickup parked across the street. "I am about to let you in on a Halpert family secret," he said, "Are you ready because this is kind of a big deal."

"I think so."

He scanned the area one more time before opening the toolbox in the bed of the pickup to expose an ice chest full of beer. "It was my dad's idea. He started doing this at the engagement party, when he found out that Molly's family doesn't drink," Jim explained. Pam giggled as Jim handed her a beer, grabbed one for himself, and walked down the street away from the house. "It's the only way to survive Molly's parties."

At the end of the block there was a small lawn area with a bench where they sat down. No sooner had the cracked open the cans than Allie appeared on the doorstep of Tom's house. She carefully made her way down to the truck and looked up the block to where they sat. Jim waved her over with a laugh.

She discretely pulled a beer from the ice chest and started down the street to join them. She took a seat on the bench beside Pam. "I had a feeling I'd find you out here. You're giving away the family secrets, Jim, this is must be pretty serious," she said opening her beer. She turned to Pam, "I hope we can trust you."

"Don't worry, she can keep a secret," Jim said, setting his hand on her knee and smiling.

"Is Tom in on this?" Pam glanced at each of them.

"It's not that we don't want to tell him," Jim began.

"It's just that we know he couldn't keep it from Molly. And if Molly finds out its over," Allie admonished. "So we can't let him know."

Pam pulled an imaginary zipper across her lips. "This is way too good a tradition to ruin."

"I don't know, you and Molly seemed to be getting along okay," Allie said.

"I was hiding in the kitchen to get away from all those women outside I didn't know. How long before they speak to you?"

"About a year," Allie said. "They're all Molly's friends and sisters, and they never really got used to having to interact with Halperts."

Pam sighed.

"But if you're going to come to these things you have to sit out there with Mom and I, we need someone else on our team."

Jim laughed. "Oh, Allie, it can't be that bad."

"Oh, Jim, it can," she mimicked. "So, did Molly tell you all the embarrassing stories she knows about Jim?" Allie asked Pam.

"No, she was just starting to tell me that he never brings girls home, but Jim walked in before I got to hear why. Is there like a bathtime as a baby photo album the last girl saw or what?"

"I think I've only met one girlfriend since he was in high school, and that was a long time ago. We didn't do anything particularly embarrassing that I remember."

Jim smirked. "Nothing particularly embarrassing," he explained, "I just don't want to subject girls to this family unnecessarily."

"Well you don't have to bring them to Molly's parties right off the bat. These are horrible. You could at least start with meeting Paul and me, or just Mom and Dad, before making her play nice with the whole extended clan."

"I can handle it," Pam piped up, seeing how embarrassed Jim suddenly looked. "If there wasn't beer in the toolbox I may not have, but I can handle it."

Allie smiled. "I like this one," she said to Jim.

"Good," he said, "I guess I'll hold on to her."

"Good," Allie nodded. "So what did you bring for Amy? Please say another Yankees jersey."

"No. Pam helped me shop this year. We got her a toy sheep."

Allie dropped her shoulders in disappointment. "The look on Molly's face when she opened that jersey for Dylan was so priceless. I wouldn't have come if I'd know I wouldn't get to see her get angry again."

"Allie!"

"Did Jim tell you about the jersey?"

Pam nodded. "I wish I could have been there."

"I can't even describe it," Allie said through her laughter. "And Jim was _so proud_ of it until Molly all but stormed out the room."

Jim hid his face in his hands.

"Oh, it's okay," Pam wrapped and arm around him. "She's still speaking to you."

Allie was still laughing. "This is why I asked for help this year," Jim explained. He finished off his last sip of beer. "Okay, I better get back before they notice I'm gone. Be good," he warned Allie, pointing his finger right at her.

Allie smiled sweetly. "When have I ever been anything but?"

He shook his head and walked towards the house, tucking his empty can in the toolbox.

"So, Jim won't tell me a thing about you. How long have you two been dating?" Allie turned to Pam and tucked one leg under her.

"Honestly," Pam blushed, "we've only been _dating_ for a week. But we've worked together years."

"You're not..." Allie cocked her head to the side. "Wait, are you the receptionist?"

Pam bit her lip, trying to squelch the emotion bubbling inside her; the excitement that he'd told everyone about her battled her embarrassment. "That's me."

"I thought you were engaged!" Allie squealed.

"I was, but then after Jim told me how he felt—"

"Wait, Jim told you how he felt?"

Pam weighed her options. She knew telling Allie would make Jim upset, but saw this as a chance to get in with his family, to make an ally. "Just before he left for Stamford," she blurted out, "and I called off the wedding. But then he came home and he was with Karen—"

"Karen was real?" Allie interrupted again.

Pam laughed. "But then all of a sudden she was out of the picture and now we're…"

"Oh you are too cute!"

Pam blushed. "Please don't tell Jim I told you all this, he gets so embarrassed."

"Oh I wish I could promise you that," Allie laughed. "But how I can I pretend I don't know? You're his lobster!"

Pam hid her face in her hands, allowing herself to laugh at the allusion.

"No seriously," Allie sobered. "Karen was real?"

"Yes Karen was real. You guys are terrible. He wouldn't have made up a girlfriend. She was actually really sweet."

"Except that she tried to steal the man you called off your wedding to be with."

"Yeah, except for that." Pam's phone vibrated in her pocket and she jumped a little. She pulled it out and grimaced at the text message. "Jim says they know we're gone and we better get back inside ASAP."

Allie frowned but finished the rest of her drink in one gulp then led Pam back to the party.

* * *

"You want to go out for dinner on the way home?" Jim offered as they got back in his car after the party.

Pam tried to build up the enthusiasm to agree.

"Me neither," Jim said, reading her expression. "You want to eat leftovers and watch a movie at my place."

Pam nodded her head in agreement and leaned back into the seat. "I'm exhausted."

Jim drove them back to his apartment and let them in. "Why don't you pick out a movie and I'll heat us up something to eat."

She knelt down in front of his movie collection as he made his way into the kitchen.

"You own _Edward Scissorhands_?"

"Yeah. It's a good movie," he called back, but when he turned around he saw he hadn't needed to shout. She had made her way into the kitchen with a DVD in her hand. "What'd you find?"

She held up _The Breakfast Club_. "You own every one of my dessert island movies."

"Do I?"

"They're all together on your shelf," she smirked.

"Well, if you liked them I figured they would be worth a shot, and it costs almost as much to rent a movie as it does to buy it," he argued. "You want to watch that one?"

"Nope. I want to watch _Princess Bride._" She flashed him a grin and pranced into the living room to put on the movie. The microwave beeped and he appeared a moment later with two plates of pasta.

"Spaghetti and garlic toast, madam," he said with a fake accent.

"Garlic toast," she repeated. "Getting fancy."

"It's an old family recipe," he teased.

He took a seat next to her and they dug into their dinner.

"This is pretty good."

"Don't sound so surprised!" he scoffed. "I guess this is the first time I've cooked for you. I should have done something a little more special than leftover spaghetti."

"The first time you cooked for me was toasted cheese on the roof of the office. You don't remember?"

"Oh, well of course I remember _that._ It was our first date," he teased. "But this is the first time I've served you dinner since you've been my secret girlfriend."

"You're really missing the mark on these firsts. I mean first time I met your family was at a party full of Molly's friends, first time you told me you loved me I was topless, and now this," she said playfully.

"Well there is one first I haven't managed to screw up yet," he said, placing a hand on her knee.

The smile on her lips widened. "I'm sure you will soon enough."

"You really know how to hurt a guy."

She giggled and glanced up at the movie. "I still can't believe you bought all my desert island movies. If I didn't know you so well, I would probably be creeped out."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't think I can't tell, Jim," she flipped her hair, "you're basically obsessed with me."

He chuckled. "I am not."

"Both Molly and Allie knew about me, Jim. They both, separately, referenced the receptionist you were obsessed with. I was embarrassed for you."

"But that didn't stop you from talking about it?" he probed.

"Oh no. I really think Allie and I bonded."

"At my expense?"

"Basically," she teased. "Oh, and she said I was your lobster."

"My what?"

Pam made each and into a little claw and linked them together then wiggled her hands to mimic walking, "Your lobster. You know, like Ross and Rachel."

Jim buried his face in his hands, mostly to hide his smile. "My sister is a piece of work."

They turned their attention back to the pasta and the movie for a while, until both of their plates were empty. Jim stacked the plates and leaned back into the arm of the couch. Pam noticed the gesture and leaned back into him, allowing him to snake an arm around her middle and let it come to rest on her abdomen. With her head settled into his shoulder she listened to the pace of his breathing.

"Hey," she started, trying unsuccessfully to meet his eyes without moving her head. "What's the real reason that you never take girls home to meet your family?"

"Like I said, it's not fair to subject girls to my family unless it's really necessary."

"And for me, it was really necessary?"

"Well, when I know a relationship isn't going anywhere, there really is no reason to get my family involved, but with you…" he trailed off. "I don't know."

"Are you saying you think this relationship is going somewhere?" she finally took her head from his chest to look him in the eye.

"I hope so."

She smiled and took in the moment then settled back onto him. "Molly thought that you hadn't ever brought a girl home because you were so hung up on me. Did you know everyone in your family thought you made up Karen?"

"They did not."

"Allie and Molly both did," she said in a singsong tone.

"That's crazy."

"It really doesn't help your argument that you weren't obsessed with me."

"I told my family about you," he said, the hand that had once just rested on her stomach began to trace circles. "I told them how funny you are," he pecked a kiss on her neck, "and how sweet you are," he kissed her again, "and how you are my," his next kiss inched towards her ear, "best friend. And if loving all of those things about you makes me obsessed," he craned his neck a little to kiss the bottom of her jaw bone, "well then maybe it paid off, because I'm the one you're snuggled up with on the couch."

She turned her head to help him reach her lips with his. One kiss seemed to beg for another as she pivoted in his lap to face him. Her hands were on his chest, trying to memorize the shape of each muscle as he pulled her tighter and tighter to him with each kiss.

"Do you want to turn the movie off and—" she had to stop to catch her breath, "and go to your…"

He broke her sentence with a chaste kiss on her lips, not forcing her to say the words he knew she would be embarrassed to say. He hit the power button the each remote and didn't bother untangle himself from her as he stood and walked backwards towards his bedroom, leading her along with him with a trail of kisses.

When they reached his bed she let him pull her on top of him as they exchanged kisses and caresses. It wasn't until they were both half stripped of their clothes and his hands carefully unzipped her family-meeting skirt that an untimely giggle rose up in her. He ignored it at first and slipped the skirt off of her hips. He explored her soft skin with his hands and kissed her mouth. His kiss was interrupted, however, with another tiny laugh.

He placed a quick kiss on her mouth and pulled away, "Laughter isn't exactly the reaction I was going for here," he whispered.

"I'm sorry," she said making an effort to quiet her nervous giggles, "its just that I've spent so long trying not to think about this, that I can't really believe its happening." As soon as his hands began to toy with the elastic of her panties however, the laughter began again.

"Stop that now, and I mean it," he said gruffly into her ear.

She quieted instantly and pursed her lips nervously.

He ran a quick trail of kisses down to the crook where he shoulder met her neck and whispered, "Would anybody like a peanut?" He released a chuckle into her skin and enjoyed the feeling as her body shook with laughter.

She pulled him back up to press a kiss on his lips, still laughing.

He met her eyes as they broke apart. "Did I just screw up our first time?" he asked soberly.

She nuzzled him. "No. It's perfect," she whispered, and kissed him again, the smile still on her mouth.


	3. How to polish silver

_First and foremost I am feeling a little insecure about this whole "in-progress" thing, because I usually only write one-shots, and the meager amount of feedback is just making it harder for me to find the motivation to continue (by the way "Inherently Flawed" it was you putting this on your alerts that pulled me out of my slump…I owe you one)._

_Secondly, for anyone who has not seen The Princess Bride, that last part of chapter 2 (stop that now and I mean it, would anybody like a peanut) is a joke from the movie, not Jim being an asshole…something I probably should have explained earlier (and for goodness sake move it to the top of your netflix cue because you are missing out on a classic!)_

* * *

How to polish sliver

ff lindy

* * *

When she woke up her bare body was still cradled in his embrace, their bodies tucked into one another comfortably. She smiled and tried to close her eyes again, to prolong this moment with him.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Morning," she mumbled into him.

He placed a few soft kisses on her collarbone before her eyes finally fluttered open. He was staring intently at her and as soon as he had the opportunity he began to search her eyes, as if they held answers to the questions that were eating him up inside.

She let him, looking back into him, although with no where near the intensity.

"What're you looking for?" she said drowsily.

"Nothing," he said, "just taking it all in."

She smiled softly. "Don't worry, Jim. I'm not going anywhere." Her eyes began to droop, like she was ready to drift back off. He shifted his gaze just enough to allow her to close them completely. "You got the girl," she murmured. Jim felt the muscles in her neck go limp again as she fell back to sleep.

The next time she stirred she could sense his wakefulness around her. The pulse she had tried so hard to memorize as she drifted off to sleep seemed a little faster, his breath was no longer rhythmic, and daylight poured in the window. His thumb was making tiny circles on her stomach mindlessly and he was on his back staring at the ceiling.

"Sorry," she said, rolling closer to him. "You wore me out."

"It's okay," he said, a smile breaking across his face with the realization that she was awake. "It's been a great day."

"It's been?" she repeated.

"It's almost noon, Beesly."

"No way."

He lifted up his alarm clock from the nightstand to show her.

She giggled, embarrassed by her own laziness. "I'm sorry."

"Really, it's okay. How often do you get to spend Sunday laying around naked with your co-worker?"

She laughed, "Well hopefully more often now." She drummed her fingers on his chest playfully.

"I like the way you think." He gave her a short kiss. "I am going to go hop in the shower, and you can snoop through my things and find something to wear, and then I'll make us some lunch. Okay?"

She held on pitifully, not really wanting to let him go. "Or," she said with a tiny grin, "I could join you in the shower."

"That would mean forgoing the snooping unattended through my things," he warned.

"Are you trying to talk me out of it?"

"You're right. What am I doing?" he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bathroom, overjoyed by the sounds of her squeals of delight.

* * *

She put back on the outfit she'd worn the previous day when she got out of the shower, and wondered, although prematurely, how long it would be before she was invited to keep clothes at his place. "Are you sure you don't want to borrow something clean?" he offered as they made their way out into the kitchen. "You'd look pretty cute in a pair of boxers and Penn State shirt."

"No. I have to go home, and imagine what the neighbors would think," she teased.

"Do you want some lunch first?" he offered. "I don't have much in the house, but I think we could come up with something." He opened the refrigerator and she walked up behind him to see what he had.

The door was full of condiments and dressings but the actual shelves barely contained an edible thing. "What do you eat?" she balked.

"Well I normally keep food in the house but I've had dinner almost every night this week with this girl from work."

"The receptionist you're obsessed with?"

"That's the one."

She smiled. "Well if you plan on having her spend the night from time to time, you should probably keep the house better stocked."

"I'll try harder next time." He closed the fridge and opened his pantry. A bag of rice sitting on a mostly empty shelf triggered an idea. "Frozen potstickers and rice?"

"You just want to prove you can cook," she accused.

"Nope, I just know rice takes half a hour and I want to keep you here a little longer."

He tossed the bag of rice onto the counter and went to the freezer to pull out the potstickers.

"Can I make the rice?" she asked, grabbing the bag and moving to the stove. "You're going to spoil me."

"Oh yeah, first leftovers then frozen food, you're really a hard guest to please," he teased.

"Really. I can probably count on one hand the number of times a man has cooked for me."

"Well then clearly you've been with the wrong man."

"I guess I have," Pam retorted, brushing off the opportunity to get into a serious topic.

"My mom was all about fair division of labor," Jim said, pulling out a pot and a pan. "She split all the chores in perfect thirds. Tom and I had to do the same stuff Allie did."

"Seriously?"

"I have polished a silver tea set and Allie has mowed the lawn."

"You polished sliver?" Pam giggled.

"I can't say it was my favorite chore, but everything was fair. Everyone had to do it at some point, just like everyone had a turn making dinner."

"Are you telling me that when we're together I only have to cook dinner half the time?"

"It's only fair, right?"

"Oh, now I know it's love."

Jim smiled down at her before attending to his potstickers. "If I'd known it was that easy I would have served you leftover spaghetti a long time ago."


	4. How to spot an addict

_Thank you to everyone who offered so much support and feedback as I made my first stab at a "chapters" story._

_Here's the end, I know it's short, but it was ready to be over. I hope you enjoyed it (and I still love feedback even now that I'm done)!_

* * *

How to spot an addict

ff lindy

* * *

"So, I'll see you in the morning?" she said, bating her eyes like an unconfident teen.

"I wouldn't go to work if I wouldn't," Jim said. He leaned in to give her a kiss goodbye and tried to pull her back to him as she made a meager effort to get out of his car.

"Jim," she sighed. "I have to go."

"I know," he groaned, loosening his arms from around her waist. "I have a couple errands to run anyway."

"Go. Go buy groceries." She gave him a peck on the lips, but he wouldn't settle for anything less than another deep kiss. "Okay, I'll see you."

"Okay," he said, finally allowing her to open the door and walk towards her apartment.

He watched her walk towards her place, and waited until she was behind a closed door before he pulled away. He drove to the grocery store, and instead of speeding through the mundane process like he typically did at the supermarket, he wandered the aisles somewhat aimlessly. Without her there with him he suddenly felt like there was something missing. He loaded his cart with things he knew she liked. Mixed berry yogurt and sunchips weren't his typical purchases, but part of him felt like he wasn't just shopping for himself anymore. So quickly she had become an extension of him that when he stood in front of the loaves of bread he couldn't pick one out without thinking of which one she would want.

The whole shopping trip seemed that way, and when he had finally loaded the bags into the trunk of his little car the sky outside was darkening and the lights of the little stores in the shopping center were turning on. He sighed as he closed up his trunk, wondering how he ever got along without her, and when he looked up a sign turned on before his eyes:_ Village Jewelers._

He locked up the trunk and walked over the to shop, checking the sign on the door to be sure they weren't closing. He chastised himself in his mind for doing it, but it just seemed right when he walked up to the counter and smiled at the old man standing on the other side. "Engagement rings," he said.

The man smiled and gestured to a case by the door. "Do you know what you're looking for?"

"Simple, but not ordinary. It needs to be special."

"It's not the ring that's special, my boy, it's the hand it goes on."

* * *

He had barely finished putting away his groceries when his phone rang. He felt a shot of adrenaline run through him, hoping it was Pam. "Hello?" he answered.

"Hey, it's Allie."

Although he was always happy to hear from his sister, part of him felt deflated. "Hey."

"I think I took Pam's sweater by mistake when I left yesterday. Did she end up with mine?"

"No, she didn't bring one." He remembered because he had worried that she would be cold and tossed an extra sweatshirt in the backseat of his car when he left.

"Crap, that's what I was afraid of. Now I'm going to have to call Molly."

Jim chuckled. "She's not that bad, Allie."

"Why couldn't Tom have just married someone normal? I mean how hard is it to find a girl who isn't an obsessive-compulsive tight-ass."

"You don't know how much worse it could be," Jim thought of Angela, and what she would have been like at his family functions. "I hope you don't say things like that about Pam."

"Oh, is Pam joining the family now?" Allie asked sarcastically.

"You promise not to tell Mom and Dad if I tell you a secret?"

"No way!" Allie laughed, part of her believing he was teasing. "Jim that's crazy, you've only been dating for a week."

"I didn't propose or anything. I just bought a ring."

"You're out of your mind, Jim."

"I know she's the one."

"Do you know anything about dopamine?" she asked. "It's the neurotransmitter that floods your brain when you're on heroine."

"Allie."

"Did you know that in the first few months of a new relationship your levels of dopamine are almost as high as someone on heroine?"

"Allie, it's not like that."

"It is, Jim. It's like choosing your wife while you're on crack!"

Jim chuckled to himself, internally convincing himself that she was wrong. "Don't say a word to Mom or Dad."

"I won't. Because when you come down off of this crazy drug trip, you might feel differently."

"You hate her don't you?" Jim asked.

"Pam? No. She's great. She'd make a great sister-in-law. She drinks and hates Molly's mom. But, you cannot propose to someone you've only dated for a week."

"I'll wait, I promise."

"You better James Halpert."

"Yeah, fine," he chuckled, letting his little sister's ration roll off his back. "Go call Molly and tell her you stole her sweater."

"Shut up, crack addict."

"See you later, Allie."

"Bye."

He hung up the phone and sighed. The little black box that held the ring was sitting on the counter by a stack of empty grocery bags. He picked it up and opened the box, just to look one more time at the sparkly diamond before he popped the box closed and carried it back to his bedroom. He carefully buried it at the back of his underwear drawer and tried to go back to real life. "Who am I trying to kid?" he sighed to himself as he started to make himself a sandwich on potato bread, which he didn't even really like. "I'm an addict."


End file.
